


A Baby Story

by greenconverses



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Babyfic, Drama, F/M, Family, Future Fic, Pregnancy, Romance, and by babyfic i mean labor fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-15 16:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenconverses/pseuds/greenconverses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The birth of Percy and Annabeth’s first child goes just the way one would expect it to — that is, not at all like it's supposed to and not at all easy. That’s sort of what happens when you mess with the patroness of childbirth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> So here's the thing: I hate babyfic. I never want to write, never want to read, and I generally click the back button if I see the word baby in it. But for some reason, this story popped in my head one night at work (there's one specific line in the second part that was just _too good_ to ignore and you'll know it when you see it) and I haven't been able to shake it. I'm pretty sure Google thinks I'm pregnant with all the research and about to deliver I've done in the last few weeks. I tried to be medically accurate as much as possible, but some things were left out for the sake of moving the story along. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! It's been fun to write.

There were very few things worse than being nine months pregnant in the middle of July while living in the festering, concrete jungle that is the island of Manhattan, and one of them was _still_ being pregnant five days after the due date in the worst heat wave the city’s seen in years.

Annabeth Chase had not been fond of being pregnant ever since she peed on that damn plastic stick and saw a blue plus sign staring back at her right before Christmas. True, she hadn’t had any complications and didn’t get sick very often the first trimester, but Annabeth did not find incubating another human being a heartwarming and delightful experience.

She had been miserable since her stomach ballooned during the sixth month, making her look like she swallowed a watermelon overnight, and it just kept getting bigger and _bigger_ from there, taking her sense of balance and finely honed agility with it. She hadn’t seen her overly swollen feet since then, and her muscles ached in new places every day. She got tired and out of breath so easily, barely slept any more because she was much too hot and uncomfortable, and if she got kicked in the ribs _one more time_ , she swore she was going to leave the little monster on a mountainside once it was born and let it fend for itself, potential Oedipus complications be damned. 

Annabeth’s body had been trained to fight monsters since she was seven years old; now all it was good for was accidentally bowling over little old ladies at the grocery store while she hurried to the bathroom for the fifth time that morning. She hated what it’s done to her, and missing her due date was possibly one of the biggest disappointments in her life. Five whole days, and there hadn’t been any signs of labor. She was terrified that she was going to be the butt of some cosmic joke and end up pregnant forever. For a woman who loved plans as much she did, waiting for something to just _happen_ naturally was driving her crazy.

Perhaps Percy could tell Annabeth was on her last straw Friday morning as she struggled to get out of bed and waddled her way into the kitchen to half-heartedly make breakfast, because she almost kissed him when he suggested, “I know we’re not supposed to travel much right now, but d’you want to go to Montauk for the weekend and cool down?”

Instead of kissing him, however, Annabeth ended up sobbing with relief into the bowl of orange juice she managed to pour on top of her cereal instead of milk. Percy took this response as a, “Yes, get me away from this literal hellhole, _please_ ,” and went to pack their bags.

—

A baby hadn’t been in Annabeth’s plans a year ago, and for a woman who thrived on having plans for everything, a whoops baby was definitely the biggest wrench to throw into them. The only thing she’d planned to grow that year was the client base for the interior design company she and Rachel had founded after college. 

At 27, starting a family wasn’t any where on Annabeth’s priority list, but give someone a bout of the flu that came with birth control canceling antibiotics, and it was amazing how fast those priorities could shift. 

Annabeth had always been rather indifferent on the subject of children. She’d never been a big fan of them and still wasn’t, even after some of her older siblings and friends starting popping them out left and right. That didn’t mean she didn’t like them, just that she wasn’t all that interested in being around the snotty, screaming wretches. 

When she’d dreamed and planned her future with Percy, children had always been a bit of an afterthought. It was enough for her to be with him for the rest of her life, and adding children to the mix just seemed to be asking too much. 

Percy had always been more enthusiastic about the idea, and they had talked about it before they moved in together, deciding it was in both their best interests to wait a while before trying. They weren’t married, they didn’t have much money, Percy needed to find a career that he didn’t get booted from every six months for some inexplicable mythological related incident, and they certainly weren’t ready to be parents. 

Even though she was so so _so_ ready to be finished being pregnant, Annabeth still didn’t think she was ready to be a mother. A part of her — a small, trembling, selfish part of her — still didn’t _want_ to be a mother. 

She was terrified that part would become louder and more insistent once the baby was born, and she’d repeat her father’s neglectful mistakes, winding up with a child that hated her guts. 

But there were several difference between her and her father, least of which being that her child was not the result of brain melding with a goddess, and, even as hesitant as she was about the entire thing, she was ready to welcome the baby with her whole heart. 

Plus, she had Percy. 

And, as he had proven time and time again, he was enough to make all the difference in the world. 

—

“If you make any sort of beached whale comment,” Annabeth warned as she waddled into the cabin’s kitchen, her bare belly leading the way. “I am going to shove my fist through your chest and not feel once ounce of regret about it.” 

Percy smiled gently at her, eyes roving over her form as she approached. It’d taken her more time than she liked to admit to wrestle into her bikini, but even as bloated and round as she got, Percy never stopped looking at her like she was some kind of super model. Up until this last month, their sex life had stayed fairly active throughout her pregnancy, and it did wonders for her confidence, knowing that he was still attracted to her. She’d been proud of her pre-pregnancy body, and accepting the changes to her shape had probably been one of the toughest battles in the last nine months. 

“Why would I ever call you that?” he replied, tucking a curl behind her ear. “You look fantastic.”

“Liar,” Annbeth grumbled. “You’re too busy staring at my breasts to notice the bags under my eyes”

“I was not. I mean, yeah, they’re kind of hard to miss in that top and they’re amazing and... okay, I was looking at them, so sue me. There’s precious little time for me to have them all to myself,” Percy laughed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You do look less likely to strangle me for admitting that though, so I suppose you’re feeling better?” 

Annabeth nodded. Montauk was only about 10 degrees cooler than Manhattan, but the relaxed atmosphere of Sally’s cabin and the lulling sound of the ocean just outside the door made all the difference in the world to her. She was still tired and achy, but she felt less irritable and less likely to give into her urges to chug some castor oil in a desperate attempt to induce labor. 

Her doctor, however, hadn’t been all that pleased when Annabeth had called to inform of her of their travel plans, not hesitating to remind her that she wouldn’t be able to assist if Annabeth went into labor at a Montauk hospital. It’d been a risk Annabeth was willing to take to get any modicum of relief. Her baby clearly had not inherited her love of carefully planned situations, that much was already certain. 

But the baby liked the change in location and the fresh air too, if the excited somersaults it was doing inside her were any indication.

“I think your hellspawn wants to go swimming,” she said, glancing down at her belly. “Impatient thing. So much like your father already. Of course, _he_ doesn’t kick me in the ribs to get my attention.” 

Percy slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side as they walked toward the sliding door leading outside. A blanket, towels, water bottles, and her sunhat were waiting in the shade on the picnic table. 

“Remind me, have we decided on what we’re going to name this thing yet? ‘Cause putting ‘Demonseed Hellspawn Jackson’ on the birth certificate is going to get us in trouble with CPS sooner or later.” 

“Jackson- _Chase_ ,” Annabeth corrected automatically, pulling the hat on. “And at this point, as long as the kid isn’t named after some douchebag hero from mythology and doesn’t have any y’s where they don’t need to be, I don’t care.” 

They were supposed to have a list of agreed names for both genders picked out a month ago, but like with everything else Annabeth had planned for her pregnancy, that had fallen through when neither of them could agree on a few favorites. They had all sorts of suggestions from their friends, though Leo’s multiple requests to get the baby named Leo Jr. were immediately rejected, much to his chagrin. In their world, names had power, and they had to be somewhat careful about the one they picked, lest they end up cursing their poor kid before it was even a day old. 

“Oh good, ‘cause I was thinking if it’s a boy, it should totally be LeBron James. I know he’s not at his peak any more, _but_ — ” The rest of Percy’s sentence left him in a rush of air as Annabeth’s elbow found its way to his stomach and dug in sharply. 

“Never mind,” he wheezed. “Bad idea.”

“Thought so,” Annabeth said smugly, pleased that for once her reflexes had not been hampered by her stupid belly. “Now, let’s go to the beach before it gets too crowded and I get gawked at like an exhibit at the zoo.”

“Don’t worry,” Percy said, puffing out his chest importantly, “I’ll protect you from the gawkers.”

She rolled her eyes, taking his hand. “My big _hero_. What would I do without you?”

“Well, you probably wouldn’t have gotten knocked up, for one.” 

“Oooh, good point. Too bad I didn’t dump you nine months ago.”

“Hey now...”

—

It didn’t take long in the sand, sun and water to wear Annabeth out, and they had to head back inside, much to the baby's (and her boyfriend’s) apparent dismay. The baby’s constant kickboxing in her stomach had made her nauseous, so she didn’t eat much of the hamburgers and vegetables Percy had grilled for lunch, and relaxed in the cabin’s cool kitchen with a lemonade until her eyes started drooping.

Percy was still out on the patio, grilling yet another hamburger for himself when she went off for her afternoon nap. The baby had managed to calm itself down by that point, thank the gods, and she actually managed to get in a few hours of blissful, uninterrupted sleep before being woken up by the mattress sinking beside her and Percy's hand on her shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, once he was sure he had her groggy attention, "Chiron sent me an IM a little bit ago. Apparently there's some sort of a rampaging sea monster at camp that the kids can't handle without getting gruesomely eaten. D'you mind if I go check it out?"

If Annabeth had been wide awake and at her sharpest mentally (which, to be completely honest, she hadn’t been for months now), she would've said no to this proposed misadventure in a heartbeat. Percy going off alone was always a bad idea, especially when monsters were involved, but if he was just going to camp and would have supervision...

"It’s fine with me," she murmured, glancing at the illuminated clock on the bedside table before burying her face back in the pillow. "Don't stay gone too long."

"I'll be back by dinner, promise. Rachel was on her way out here, so she said she'd trade places with me. You won't be by yourself for too long."

Rachel, Annabeth noted grumpily to herself, was supposed to be in their office in Manhattan, keeping everyone in line and making sure project deadlines were met. The flighty Oracle had probably given their handful of employees a three day weekend to celebrate Annabeth finally going on maternity leave so she could sneak off and do what Oracles did in their spare time. She was certainly going to have to have words with her business partner when she got here. 

"I'll be fine. Just go already," she said instead, blindly reaching out and pushing him away from her. Her palm must’ve landed square in his face, judging by the indignant noise he made. 

"Okay, okay," he replied, swatting her hand away and getting off the bed. "Call me if you need anything." 

"Mhmm," Annabeth said, waving him off, her head still planted in the pillows. She heard his feet pad away from the bed and then pause at the doorway, probably so he could get one last longing look at his pregnant sow of a girlfriend. She glared up at him blearily, hating the sappy look on his face. "Gods, Percy. Instagram it, it'll last longer."

Percy laughed. "Love you too, Wise Girl."

And then he was gone, completely unaware that that had been the last time he'd see her like that. 

— 

When Percy had said Rachel was on her way, he hadn’t been kidding. It took less than an hour for the Dare heiress to show up on the cabin’s porch, a certain leather-jacketed son of Hades in tow. Annabeth knew pizza delivery places that were slower and less reliable than Rachel. 

Annabeth was awake and moving by that point. Her back had started aching persistently a few minutes after Percy left, preventing her from continuing her nap. This, of course, was not a particular new sensation for her, even if the ache was slightly more sharp and painful than usual — she was going to blame the cabin’s million year old mattress for that, thanks. 

So, she was not in the best of moods when she opened the door to greet her visitors. And her mood got even worse once Nico fucking di Angelo opened his stupid mouth. 

“Holy shit, Annabeth, you look like a hipp — ” He let out a yelp of pain and Rachel pulled her hand away from his bicep, glaring at him significantly over the tops of her sunglasses. “ — I mean, you... look like you need to sit down?”

Nico had wisely kept away from Annabeth throughout the latter half of her pregnancy, due to his inability to keep his insensitive comments to himself and a healthy fear for his life in case Annabeth reacted badly to said insensitivity. She was still too groggy and tired from her nap to do him any real harm, though, so she settled for baring her teeth in a growl instead. 

“Real nice save there, di Angelo,” Rachel muttered, rolling her eyes, “He meant that you are positively _glowing_ , Annabeth. Love the sundress, but the way. Is there anything this lunkhead can do to make your life easier? A foot rub, perhaps? Chocolate cupcakes served on a silver platter? A skeletal dog to play with?”

How Rachel and Nico had become friends was still somewhat of a mystery to most of them, considering the two seemingly couldn’t stand each other most of the time. Rachel had been the only one of their group to keep attending Camp Half-Blood on a regular basis throughout their college years, and Nico, being a few years younger, had languished there as a sword fighting instructor for several more years after that, until he and Hazel had come up with enough money to start an antique store in Queens. 

Being the only ones of drinking age in a camp full of teenagers had to have formed some kind of bond between the two of them the rest of them couldn’t understand — Nico still went with her to camp on the weekends, almost out of habit more than anything else, it appeared. Annabeth had long suspected the two were involved romantically, but there was not much proof to back up those suspicions. Besides, she didn’t think both of her friends would be _that_ stupid. 

“Just come inside already, you’re making me sweat just looking at you,” she replied, pulling the door open wider. “I don’t know how you manage to not melt during the summer when you wear that jacket, Nico.” 

He headed immediately toward the fridge, pausing at the counter to pull the jacket off and toss it aside. Annabeth’s eyes narrowed when she saw him set of six pack on the island counter. What an inconsiderate _asshole_ , taunting a severely pregnant woman with alcohol like that. 

“Demon magic, more like. It’s how he’s so annoying,” Rachel said, shutting the door behind her. “I suppose it’s better than him traumatizing the underage campers by wandering around all shirtless and pale and hairy all the time.” 

“Oh, like _you_ don’t do enough damage to them with your outfits,” Nico shot back, wasting no time in cracking a bottle open. He gestured at her. “I swear to Aphrodite’s lacy G-strings, you get your kicks trying to give as many 14-year-olds awkward boners as you can.”

Rachel had on a pair of jean shorts and one of her custom, torn up and redesigned camp T-shirts. This one she’d turned into a midriff baring halter top, complete with fringe and multicolored beads. It certainly wasn’t as risque as Nico was implying, but these were teenagers — demigods teenagers at that — they were talking about. Annabeth was sure Rachel had her own little club of forbidden admirers, being the only desirable adult woman for miles around. 

“I can’t help it, I feed off their mortification,” the heiress replied sarcastically, sliding on to one of the bar stools in front of the island. She offered to help Annabeth on to one, but she waved her off, preferring to stand for now. Gods, her lower back was _killing_ her. 

“Were you heading out to camp for the weekend when Percy called?” Annabeth asked, massaging her back. 

“Kind of. Hazel wanted me to go to bid on some pieces at this estate auction in Southampton,” Nico answered. “Rachel came so she could — ”

“Front the money for his broke ass.”

“ — find some stuff for that cat figurine penthouse account of yours,” he finished, glaring at the redhead. “Rich people own really weird stuff, you know? And yes, Dare, you are included in that.” 

Rachel flipped her hair over her shoulder, ignoring him. “You’re so not going to believe it, Annabeth, but I found a Tiffany lamp with a cat motif. Charlaine is going to flip her shit when she sees it. Bonuses all around!” 

Annabeth laughed, and then — then she felt it, a slight, strange popping sensation and a sudden gush of water flowing between her legs. Startled, she glanced down at the floor, peering around her belly at the dribble of water beneath her feet. Oh, _of course_ this would happen now. This child had its father’s sense of timing, that was for sure. 

She looked back up awkwardly at her friends, her cheeks glowing. They’d seen her covered in monster goop, blood and dirt before, so she wasn’t sure why she was blushing. “Well. I think my water just broke.” 

There was a momentary silence from Nico and Rachel as they stared at the puddle on the floor and then back at her. But as usual, Nico couldn’t keep himself quiet for long. 

“You’re having the baby? _Now_?” he asked incredulously, setting his beer down with a thud and goggling at her in horror. “But we just got here!”

“Generally, that is what it means when your water breaks, yes,” Annabeth said scathingly. “Chill out, I’m not going to give birth on the kitchen floor.”

Rachel had a much more helpful reaction, having immediately hopped off the stool to get some towels to wipe up the mess. “Ignore the hysterical male. Should we call Percy? Or the hospital?” 

Annabeth waved her off. “I’ll be fine until he gets back. Don’t worry. Labor takes time.”

“Are you sure?” 

She nodded, holding back a grimace as her back flared once more. “I’m sure. I’m going to clean really quick and change, if that’s okay.”

“It’s fine, take all the time you need,” Rachel replied, pressing the towels on top of the mess with her foot. “Just yell if you need something.”

Nico barely waited until she was out of sight down the hall before she heard him hiss, “Liar! You totally said the baby wasn’t going to come while we were here!”

Annabeth rolled her eyes. Nico was 25, but he could still act very much like the petulant teenager they all knew and had grudgingly loved. Maybe she _should_ call Percy, just to keep the other man in line and to prevent Annabeth from giving him a nice walloping.

She pressed a tentative hand to the top of her stomach, letting herself soak in the moment. In a day or maybe less, she wasn’t just going to be pregnant, she was going to be a _mother_. Finally, there’d be a resident in the study-turned-nursery and she’d have the baby in her arms. Finally, she was going to meet this little pest in her womb and give it the motherly glare she’d been practicing in the mirror every morning. 

Oh boy.

Annabeth leaned against the frame of the bedroom doorway, suddenly overwhelmed with a mixture of excitement and stomach dropping dread. Her back chose that moment to flare up again, the pain radiating out toward her hips this time, and she winced at the sensation, taking a deep steadying breath. What had that damn bed done to her back? It couldn’t be contractions — she’d had some mild ones a few weeks ago, but they’d tapered off eventually and hadn’t felt anything like this. 

As she cleaned herself up and put on new clothes, the ache only seemed to get worse, transforming into a swift pain, and it definitely wasn’t just centered in her back any more. There was a certain rhythm to the pains, and Annabeth was desperately trying not to think of them as contractions because they just couldn’t be happening so _soon_ and at this intensity — 

“Rachel?” Annabeth called during one of the not-contractions, leaning over the bathroom counter and gripping the edge tightly in her hands, waiting for the pain to pass, “Can you come here for a second?” 

Rachel was in the doorway in no time at all, her eyebrows knotted with worry. “What’s wrong, Annabeth?” 

“I... “ Annabeth swallowed, her chest feeling tight. “I’m not sure. Do you have a timer on your phone?” 

“Sure, of course,” the other woman replied, pulling it out of her back pocket. “Are you having contractions already?”

“I’m not _sure_ ,” Annabeth said again, her voice high with the beginnings of panic. 

She’d done a ridiculous amount of research on labor and delivery — Percy had made a game of quizzing her with all sorts of pregnancy trivia bits, even though he didn’t understand half of it and butchered most of the words — and, for the life of her, she couldn’t remember if she’d read anything about what she experiencing. She'd planned for every scenario, except, apparently, this one. 

If these were contractions, then they were already very close together and that would mean she skipped over early labor and — and this was not supposed to be happening!

Rachel pressed a hand between Annabeth’s shoulders, and gently steered her toward the toilet, knocking the cover back down. “Sit down, and tell me when, okay?” 

Annabeth nodded, thankful for Rachel’s calm presence. She wouldn’t do anyone, least of all herself or the baby, any favors by losing her head and panicking. She could handle this. She _could_. 

She wasn’t sure how long she and Rachel timed the contractions — the pain had increased significantly with few breaks in-between them and she was making all sorts of noises low in her throat as she went through them — but it was long enough that Nico had finished his beer and apparently decided to come wandering down the hallway to see what they were up to. Annabeth opened her eyes after the last one subsided, not at all comforted by the frown on Rachel’s face and Nico’s unreadable expression as he read the phone’s screen over her shoulder. 

“W-what?” 

“Annabeth, your contractions are less than two minutes apart right now,” Rachel said. “And they’re lasting almost as long.”

“But... but that’s impossible!” she said, gasping the words out between breaths. “That means... the means I’m almost ready to deliver! My water _just_ broke, Rachel!”

“I know, but that’s what the — ”

“Give me that!” Annabeth snarled, snatching the phone out of her hands and turning the screen toward her. She could barely concentrate on the screen as another contraction began to peak, the numbers blurring as her eyes filled with tears. "This isn't... I don't... "

"Huh, you were right. You weren’t going to give birth on the kitchen floor," Nico said unhelpfully, "It’ll be the bathroom floor instead.”

If Annabeth hadn't been in so much pain, she would've punched him. She couldn't even get out a proper insult — instead, she hiccuped with frustration and then, to her eternal mortification, began to sob. 

"Asshole, shut up!" Rachel said, punching Nico in the arm hard enough to make him wince. "For once in your life, turn on your brain-to-mouth filter and keep those fucking comments to yourself. Go do something useful, like calling the damn hospital!"

She turned back to Annabeth, who was still crying and gasping with pain, and put on what Percy liked to call her scary calm yoga instructor voice. "Don't listen to him, just focus on your breathing, okay? Stay calm and think about what you need to do. Deep breaths now. That’s it, Annabeth, you’re doing great.” 

"Hospital," Annabeth choked out, once her tears had mostly stopped. "I need to go. Call Percy." 

"Okay, we'll do that in a second," Rachel said, still using that voice. "Can you stand?”

The most recent contraction had subsided, and she nodded. Rachel held out her hands and helped her up, putting her arm around her waist and rubbing gentle circles around her back as they hobbled out of the bathroom and down the hall toward the living room.

Nico was in the kitchen, having taken Rachel’s suggestion about calling the hospital to heart, but he was holding the phone above his head and frowning at it. “Is your reception out here normally this bad? I can’t get a signal for the life of me.”

“Sometimes,” Annabeth said, walking over to the couch just as another contraction began to build. “If you go outside, it might be better.”

“Right. Do you want me to call Percy or the hospital first?” 

“Hospital,” Rachel answered for her, grabbing her purse once Annabeth was settled and fishing out her keys. “Go start the car while you’re out there. We can call Percy on our way in.”

Nico said something else, but Annabeth had stopped paying attention at that point. This wasn’t the most pain she’d been in in her life — that horrific honor belonged to the long days she’d been trapped in Tartarus and nothing could quite compare to that. But Tartarus was years in her past and this — this was happening _now_ and it was hurting so much, so fast that it was scaring her. 

Through the haze of pain, Annabeth heard the front door slam and Rachel was kneeling in front of her. “Will you be able to walk out to the car?”

The height of Annabeth’s contraction hit her again, and she let out a low wail, burying her face in her hands and trying to remember the breathing techniques from class. Oh gods, it hurt, it hurt so much more than they’d said it would. Why was this happening? What was wrong with her?

“Rachel, I can’t,” she moaned, reaching for her friend’s arm. 

Rachel took her hand in hers, graciously letting Annabeth squeeze it until the contraction subsided slightly and she could breathe again. 

“Will you let Nico carry you or do I need to call an ambulance instead?”

“I — ”

The door slammed again, and both women looked up in surprise. Nico stood pressed against it, as if he was trying to keep something out. He was holding car keys and phone still in hand, a peculiar expression on his face.

“I don’t mean to alarm you,” Nico said in a tone that meant there was very much a reason to be alarmed, “But I don’t think we’re going to the hospital any time soon.” 

Annabeth let out a deep breath, swiping her sweat soaked bangs out of her eyes so she could glare at Nico. She could only get out a few more words before another contraction began to build and she gripped the edge of the sofa between her fingers, trying not to cry out this time. “Wh — what... are you talking about?”

“Well,” the son of Hades said, with the patience of someone trying not to panic, “there happens to be a drakon in the driveway. And I think it’s here to eat your baby.”


	2. Part Two

The ridiculousness of this statement momentarily distracted Annabeth from her labor pains, and she stared at Nico, hoping he knew that joking with her right now would only serve to get him gruesomely murdered. 

“ _What_? Nico, be serious.”

“Oh, I am totally serious, Annabeth,” Nico said in that tense, I’m-not-going-to-panic-nope-totally-not-panicking voice of his. “One hundred and a million percent serious.” 

“You are shitting me,” Rachel added, leaving Annabeth’s side and moving toward the front window. She pulled back the curtain to glance outside; a second later, she dropped the fabric back down and turned around, her face white. “Zeus’s balls, there’s a fucking dragon in the driveway.” 

“I told you!” 

“Don’t you start with _that_ , di Angelo, or I swear — ”

A deep, unearthly roar cut Rachel off, and the floor and walls of the cabin rumbled from the force of it, the deep vibrations causing dust to shake from the ceiling. All three of them clapped their hands over their ears, waiting for the sound to die out, and stared at each other with barely contained horror. 

This could not be happening, Annabeth though distantly, not to her, not now, not when the mythological world and its various dangers had otherwise ignored her for the last nine months. 

But there was no denying it — there was some kind of monster outside the cabin and if they didn’t do something about it, she was going to be in serious trouble. 

For the thousandth time today, she cursed her stupid belly and the extraordinary pains her baby was putting her through. What was she supposed to do in a crisis like this when she could barely get up without doubling over in agony? Fighting monsters was what she was _good_ at, not staying on the sidelines! She was going to murder Percy when he got back for leaving her like this and then murder him again for putting her in this condition! Of all the useless people she had to attach herself to for the rest of life, she _had_ to pick an unreliable son of Poseidon. He’d probably done this on pur — 

_Stop it_ , she told herself, taking a deep breath, and then another. 

She could not distress herself with melodramatic untruths. If she had to deliver the baby on the kitchen floor, then dammit, she would pull herself together and deliver the baby on the kitchen floor, Percy or no Percy. 

She would _not_ panic. 

And just when she thought she’d calmed herself down reasonably well, the height of another contraction hit her and she doubled over in pain. She let out a desperate, animalistic noise, and hoped the other two hadn’t heard it. 

She needn’t have worried about that, as Nico and Rachel were too busy arguing with each other to pay much attention to the laboring pregnant woman. 

“Fuck, what are we going to do?”

“What do you mean, what are _we_ going to do? You’re going to go outside and kick its ass, and then we’re going to the hospital!” 

“You expect me to fight that thing? Did you see the size of it? It’s practically a city block long!”

“Do you see any other options here? You’re a son of Hades; if anyone can handle it, it’s _you_. Besides, you’re the only demigod we have that isn’t currently in labor!” 

Both Nico and Rachel glanced over at Annabeth then, who was huffing and puffing through her latest contraction. She glared at the two of them as they stared at her contemplatively, but was too out of breath to say anything about it. 

“Can you shadow travel her to the hospital?”

“Not while she’s in this condition; it’d probably... well, the end result wouldn’t be _good_ , I’ll say that much,” Nico said grimly. “But I could go get Percy, and we — ”

“You are _not_ leaving us here with a giant monster outside!” Rachel said fiercely, jabbing a finger into his chest. “We’re sticking together — ”

“Until you throw me to the damn drakon!” 

“The drakon will be the _least_ of your worries if you don’t — ”

“I CAN’T CONCENTRATE ON MY BREATHING WITH YOU TWO YELLING AT EACH OTHER,” Annabeth shouted, shocking the two of them with her ferocity. 

It took her a few moments to regain her breath, but her outburst attracted the attention of the drakon, which roared again and slammed some part of its body into the ground, causing the cabinets in the kitchen to burst open and dishes to crash to the floor. The sofa underneath her slid back a few feet and she cried out as the vibrations sent jolts of pain up her back.

That, at least, seemed to put some steel back in Nico’s spine. He pulled a lighter of his back pocket and flipped the top open, unleashing his long, nightmare black sword. Annabeth shivered instinctively at the sight and moved to the far end of the couch, trying to get as far away from it as possible. She did not want that thing near her or her unborn child.

“See if you can’t get a signal with this thing or try IMing Percy while I’m out there,” Nico said to Rachel, tossing her his phone. “I’ll try and draw it away from the cabin, but there might be other monsters out there — ”

“Oh _that_ makes me feel so much better, thank you. What are we supposed to do, lock ourselves in the bathroom?”

Nico made an impatient, frustrated gesture at her. “I don’t know! You’re the Oracle — do what feels right!” Then he turned to Annabeth, softening the disgruntled look on his face. “Just... stay safe, okay? Both of you.” 

Annabeth nodded, biting her lip to keep another cry from escaping her, and Nico disappeared into the shadows. Moments later, there was another roar from outside and the ground rumbled again, a signal that the demigod had begun his battle with the drakon. 

“Okay, no panicking, no panicking,” Rachel muttered to herself, looking over at Annabeth with wide eyes. “Can you make it back to the bathroom?” 

“I — I’ll need help,” she replied. “The contractions... seem to be coming faster now.”

“Right,” Rachel said, dialing 911 and putting the phone under her ear. She walked over to the couch and helped Annabeth to her feet. The muscles in Annabeth’s legs felt like jelly and she gripped her friend’s arm, hoping she wouldn’t lose her balance and send both of them tumbling to the floor. “I can’t believe this is happening. Of course a monster would show up right when you’re about to give birth. Isn’t there some kind of mythological precedence for this?”

Rachel was babbling, as she tended to do when she was nervous, but Annabeth barely listened to her as they hobbled back down the hallway. She was starting to feel an intense, burning sensation between her legs and she knew that could not be good. 

“There is a myth like this, right?” Rachel continued. “‘Cause I swear I’ve heard Apollo grumble about a snake chasing pregnant women before… unless that was some complicated metaphor for his dick and spreading his immortal seed, which I totally wouldn’t put past him."

“Python. That’s what you mean. Python chased his mom Leto around before she…” Annabeth replied shakily, pausing to lean against the wall as another contraction began, “b-before she gave birth to him and Artemis."

"Sheesh. No wonder he’s got issues. Who does that to a pregnant woman?"

A name flashed across Annabeth’s mind like a lighting bolt, and in an instant, she knew why her labor was so swift and horrible, why Percy was missing and everything was going so, so wrong. And she knew _exactly_ who had sent the monster outside.

 _Hera_.

Annabeth hadn’t heard much from her immortal nemesis in the last few years, probably due to the part she played in saving the world from Gaia and following Hera’s messed up plans. She’d find small cow pies in her path from time-to-time, so she knew the goddess still had it out for her, and Hera’s influence over the realm of marriage was on the unspoken reasons she and Percy had decided to hold off tying the knot for a while. 

But Hera also was the patroness of childbirth and protector of laboring women. Cross her, and you’d be lucky if all she did was put you through a difficult, three day labor. The worst offenders managed to lose their babies and then hemorrhage to death while giving birth to a stillborn. Being on Hera’s bad side while pregnant was definitely not a good idea. 

Annabeth had made a sacrifice to Artemis on her due date as a precaution for the baby, but she’d completely forgotten about Hera and it appeared (and felt) as though the goddess was taking the slight personally. 

“That heinous _bitch_ ,” Annabeth snarled, forgetting her pain for a moment and pushing herself off from the wall, intending to march straight up to Olympus and kick Hera’s immortal ass, drakon outside be damned. But the intensity of her contraction ratched sharply up, cutting through her rage, and Annabeth slid down to the floor, moaning in agony. “I hate her. I hate this. I hate _everything_.”

“Her? Who are you talking about?” 

“Hera!” she said, beginning to cry again. “Hera’s behind this!” 

Rachel’s eyes went wide as she kneeled beside Annabeth, still clutching the phone in her hand. “Holy shit. You mean... that thing in the driveway, that’s _the_ Python out there?”

Annabeth nodded, unable to speak through her tears. By sending Python, Hera was condemning Annabeth’s unborn baby to a horrible fate. Annabeth wasn’t a goddess — she couldn’t run from island to island until she found a safe spot to give birth. She didn’t have those options, and Hera knew that. 

Hera knew that she was going to lose her baby. 

“Rachel,” she sobbed desperately, clawing at her best friend’s arm. The cabin shook again as Python let out another roar from outside. “She’s going to take the baby away. I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this!”

“Annabeth. _Annabeth_ ,” Rachel said sternly, giving her shake. “You have got to focus. You can — ”

“No, no, no! Not without Percy. I can’t do this without him!”

She was delirious with anxiety and pain, beyond caring how she was acting and what she looked like. Most laboring women believed they couldn’t progress with labor at some point, she knew, but Annabeth had reached the absolute breaking point. Most laboring women didn’t have to deal with a missing husband, vengeful goddess and a giant monster in addition to their labor pains. 

She might’ve lost it completely and truly doomed herself if Rachel hadn’t been at her side. 

“Listen to me, Annabeth,” the other woman said, her voice dropping into a deep, multilayered tone Annabeth’s instincts recognized immediately. Through her tears, she noticed Rachel’s eyes had the slight, neon green Oracle glow to them. “You and the baby are going to be fine. You can do this — your body knows how to do it, you just have to trust yourself. Don’t worry about the stupid snake. Nico is handling it, and as much as I give him shit, he is just as good as Percy at killing horrible things and he’ll die before he lets anything happen to us.”

If - if the Oracle knew the baby would be safe...

Annabeth’s chest heaved and her arms quivered, but she let Rachel’s words wash over her, remembering her mantra from just a few moments ago.

She would _not_ panic. 

“So, c’mon,” Rachel said, gently prying Annabeth’s hands off her arms and taking them in hers. “Let’s get you some place comfortable, and get this baby delivered, okay?”

This was not how this was supposed to go. 

She was supposed to be in the hospital with her doctor and pain medication and an entire support team of professionals at her side, not with just an Oracle with an art degree while a battle raged outside. She was supposed to be calm and have hours to adjust to the changes, not terrified and barely comprehending what was happening. Percy was supposed to be with her, whispering stupid jokes in her ears and having his hand crushed as she went through contractions, not off doing who knows what at camp. 

This was not how she had wanted to bring her baby into the world, in a haze of misery and fear, but she was going to do it anyway. 

She would have to trust her body — her cumbersome, traitor of a body — and let it do what came naturally. And that would be the hardest thing for her to accept.

Annabeth took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and pushed herself off the ground. 

—

The next half-hour of Annabeth’s life was a complete and utter blur, and she would only ever remember quick flashes of it.

She remembered Rachel filling the bathtub as she screamed through another contraction on the toilet, the lights flickering ominously above them as the cabin shuddered, and then later the relief that flowed through her once she was in the warm water and the pressure on her back receded slightly.

Rachel had been on the phone a lot, cursing under her breath and constantly redialing, finally giving a whoop of success toward the end when she managed to get through to the EMTs and get them rolling toward the cabin.

“I got rid of the — holy _fuck_ , I did not need to see that!” Nico had said when he appeared in the bathroom at an inopportune moment, covered in monster gore and his eyes going comically wide with terror when he saw what was happening the bathtub. Annabeth and Rachel both screamed for him to get out, and he did so with incredible speed. 

The urge to push became overwhelming shortly after that, and Annabeth gave over to her instincts, bearing down with all her might, clutching the edge of the bathtub with white knuckled fingers. 

One 

two

three times — 

—

She will remember _this_ part for the rest of her life. 

— 

He is small and purple red, with tufts of wet blond hair and beautiful, strong lungs filled with sharp, shivery first cries.

There are ten toes and ten fingers, and a set of wide, trusting blue eyes that are seeing her from the outside for the first time. 

He is here, he is perfect, and he is hers.


	3. Part Three

“Give him back to me!” 

Rachel’s hands on Annabeth’s shoulders were the only thing that kept her in the tub as a dark haired EMT walked out of the bathroom, the squalling baby in arms. The two male EMTs remained with her, one of them trying to wrap a blood pressure meter around her arm, and the other fiddling useless with the equipment. They’d asked her to pass the baby over so he could be examined after the cord was cut, but they hadn’t told her he’d be taken out of her eyesight. 

“It’ll be all right,” the older EMT with Ezra written on his name tag said calmly, patting her on the knee. “She’s just going to clean up him and record his vitals. You need to stay here until that placenta passes.”

“You don’t understand,” Annabeth moaned, the distant cries of her baby piercing her heart. “There’s something wrong with her. She can’t have him.”

Annabeth wasn’t sure what that woman was; all she knew that when she had approached, her skin had crawled with an impending sense of danger. Ezra exchanged looks with his fresh faced colleague, clearly believing she was a first time mother overreacting to strangers around her newborn. But Annabeth’s instincts were never wrong and she knew she had to get her baby back. 

“He’ll back back soon, don’t worry,” the other man said. “We’re going to focus on you right now, and make sure there aren’t any complications, okay?”

Annabeth shook her head, but Rachel squeezed her arm reassuringly. “I’ll go look after him if you’re okay being alone, Annabeth.”

Gods bless Rachel Elizabeth Dare, because Annabeth didn’t know what she would’ve done without her friend at her side throughout all of this. She was definitely being named godmother, and getting an order of her favorite gourmet cupcakes after of all this trouble. 

“Yes, please,” she said, turning her harried gaze on to the other woman. Rachel had to be aware of the danger — she had better Sight than any of them. “ _Watch her_.” 

She winced as still painful contraction rolled through her, and one of the EMTs began to murmur something about gentle pushing. Rachel squeezed her arm one more time, and then got up, going after the third EMT and leaving Annabeth to finish the birthing process.

She didn’t see any of them again until five or ten minutes later, after it was all over, and she’d gotten cleaned and checked over, changed and settled into bed. She repeatedly asked for the baby during this time, only to be ignored like a child. It wasn’t until the mysterious woman reappeared in the bedroom doorway, the baby now swaddled in her arms, that she realized why she’d been bothered so much by her. 

But then again, the last place one expects the queen of Olympus to put in an appearance at is a tiny, seaside cabin bathroom and one certainly does not expect said queen to be masquerading as a paramedic. 

“Congratulations, Miss Chase,” Hera said as the other paramedics exited, leaving them alone. She smirked down at her as she bobbed the baby expertly, “You have a perfectly healthy baby boy.” 

There was a twinkle of triumph in the goddess’s eyes, and the sight of it made Annabeth’s chest contract, as though a fist had wrapped around her heart and had begun to crush it. Hera had her baby. 

_Hera_ had her baby. 

“Thank you, Lady Hera,” Annabeth said, forcing a respectful tone out past the lump in her throat. She watched every move the goddess made, listening for any sounds of distress from her son. The baby had been crying after their separation, but he’d quieted down now and somehow, the silence was so much worse. She frantically wondered if Hera had done something to him. “I — I’m glad he’s safe.” 

“Remarkable, isn’t it, how so many things can go in just a few quick moments. You were very lucky.”

Hera cooed at the baby, adjusting the purple knit cap on his head, and Annabeth clutched the bed sheets tightly in her hands, trying not to fling herself at the goddess and punch her out. 

She had to play this safe. If Hera was here to take him or — or — oh gods, she couldn’t even think of it. She was helpless against Hera, and the thought of anything happening to her little boy made her absolutely sick. How could she have forgotten to make the sacrifice and put her baby in so much danger?

“I had a lot of help,” she replied, her voice thick. “May I have him back? Please?”

The dark haired immortal looked at her as if she had asked the most idiotic question in the world, like she would give a baby to someone like Annabeth, who had let him go so easily in the first place. Annabeth held back a desperate sob, her entire body trembling. She wanted her baby, and she wanted him _now_. 

Then, to her complete surprise, Hera sat on the edge of the bed beside her and held out the bundle. “Open your arms, Annabeth.”

Puzzled, Annabeth did as the goddess asked and she set the baby down in her arms, handling him as if he was made of glass. Hera gently adjusted Annabeth’s hold on him until she was satisfied, and then, hesitantly, pulled away and sat back. The grip on Annabeth’s heart loosened the instant the baby was in her arms, and tears of relief sprung to her eyes when she saw that he was awake and peering at her. She kissed his forehead and held him close to her breast, afraid to let him go for one more moment. 

“I was not going to hurt him,” Hera said suddenly, drawing her attention once more. Annabeth blinked in surprise. “I’m rather fond of newborns, unless they’re my husband’s bastards. Besides, Poseidon and Athena would never let me hear the end of it if I did, and that’s certainly an alliance I don’t want to face.” 

Annabeth stared at her, brow furrowing. “Then... why else did you come? You hate me.” 

“It’s been a century or two since demigods such as yourself and Percy Jackson reproduced, and I wanted to see the results firsthand,” she said with a shrug, “I’m the goddess of family, child. Occasionally it’s best to set aside grudges for a day and celebrate triumphs like this. Even if the _darling_ was born out of wedlock."

A long ago memory of Hera casually dismissing those family members she deemed unworthy flared in Annabeth's mind, and outright indignation curdled in her heart. Her baby wasn’t going to be part of her Olympian Stepford collection. How dare she judge him already — he hadn’t even been out of her womb for an hour!

She swallowed down her anger as best she could, but some managed to seep out when she spoke again. “Sure. What’s a celebration without a giant snake, huh?” 

Hera rolled her eyes. “Like I said, I wasn’t trying to hurt you or the babe. But I couldn’t resist a little scare. You had such a blase attitude about pregnancy and motherhood, dear. _Someone_ had to remind you what was important about it all.” 

Annabeth glanced down at her baby, mulling over Hera’s words with an irritated frown. She didn't need to be condescended to about the importance of family; she had a better clue what it meant than Hera did. While it was true that she hadn’t exactly been over the moon about her pregnancy and she’d been hesitant about becoming a mother, she’d always taken the idea of having a baby seriously... hadn’t she? 

She sighed heavily. It was hard to believe that she’d ever been indifferent to her child now that he was here and such a delicate weight in her arms. One look into his eyes, and she’d been lost. He was barely twenty minutes old, and she would walk through the depths of Tartarus all over again to keep him safe. Was that what Hera had wanted to ensure? 

“Still,” she grumbled, adjusting the blanket around the baby as he squirmed, “you could’ve found another way to teach me a lesson besides putting me through absolute hell. Your whole plan might have backfired. The resulting trauma from such a dramatic birth could’ve delayed bonding, you know.”

“You have biology to thank for the swift delivery, not I. I only sent Python. Percy was supposed to be here to fight him and test his fatherly dedication, but sons of Poseidon never seem to do what they’re supposed to. You'll need to work on that," Hera said, a long suffering look appearing on her face. “If I had known you would be prone to precipitous labor, I would have held off on the task. Probably.”

Oh, that was some straight bullshit. Hera had clearly been beyond delighted that Annabeth had had such a rough time with her labor; she wouldn’t have shown up to play mind games with her if she hadn’t wanted to prolong Annabeth’s suffering. She kept that comment to herself though, hoping to avoid earning another early parenting task from the goddess. 

“Does this mean you owe me one, and you won’t ruin a wedding if Percy and I decide to get married?” 

Hera gave her a dirty look as she rose from the bed, adjusting her uniform primly. “Goddesses do not owe favors, Miss Chase. However, if you request my blessing at the appropriate time and with a substantial sacrifice, I will give it to you.” She turned her gaze to the baby once more, and her face softened imperceptibly. “Your child has a bright future ahead of him. Take care and raise him right.” 

Annabeth nodded, wondering what, exactly, she meant by _bright_. 

“I will.” The goddess lingered in the doorway, arching a pointed eyebrow at her, and Annabeth quickly added, “Um, thank you. I guess.” 

Although she muttered, “Ungrateful demigods,” under her breath, that apparently satisfied Hera enough, for she turned on her heel and swept from the room, carrying herself far more regally than one dressed in safety orange should be able to. 

Annabeth let out a tense breath at her departure, and slumped back into her pillows, grimacing as her sore muscles flared up. Her body was tired and hurt in ways she’d never dreamed were possible; she’d rather take on a pack of hydras than give birth again any time soon. 

Then again...

She stared at the child in her arms, finally having a chance to study him properly. He stared back, equally curious about her — well, as curious as a newborn with terrible vision could be, anyway. With a tiny grunt, one of his arms broke free of the swaddling and waved around; she reached out and touched his hand, unable to stop the giddy grin that spread across her face when his hand wrapped around her finger possessively. 

“Hey there, baby,” she murmured, gently stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. “You know, you caused quite a bit of trouble getting here. You better bet I’m never going to let you forget it, either. Just ask your father when he gets here... you do get that from his side, unfortunately.”

The baby gurgled at her, and kicked his feet in response to her laugh. Warmth flooded Annabeth’s body, and she clutched him a little closer. 

Maybe she’d skip the pack of hydras; fighting mythological creatures didn’t have nearly as sweet of a reward waiting at the end of it. 

—

Percy was pretty confident that his cabin’s front lawn had not had as many gouge and burn marks in it when he’d left a few hours ago. He was also certain that Rachel’s car hadn’t had a person sized dent in it’s passenger side the last time he’d seen it either, and that his mother was going to kill him if she ever saw the bits of Underworld skeleton soldiers still hanging out in the flowerbed.

Really, the scene that greeted him as he approached the cabin’s front door should’ve worried him more than it did, especially considering his heavily pregnant girlfriend had probably been inside when all this destruction had gone on (or, more likely, had been the cause of it), but these sorts of things tended to happen when Nico di Angelo hung around. Add an Oracle like Rachel Dare, and there was double the mess. 

On the plus side, however, the cabin was still standing and the lights were on, so whatever had gone on outside probably hadn’t been too serious in nature.

Probably.

“Hey, I’m back,” Percy called as he opened the door, balancing several boxes of pizza with one hand. “And I brought food.” 

“Food?” Nico asked, shifting from where he was splayed on the couch. His clothes were covered in dirt and torn in places, and he had a bag of frozen peas draped over half his face. “Did you get Hawaiian? ‘Cause I call dibs on the entire box if you did.” 

He shook his head. “No Hawaiian. Annabeth’s been sensitive to pineapple. It’s tragic, dude, let me tell you.”

Nico groaned dramatically and flopped back onto the couch. “Pregnancy ruins _everything_.”

“Poor thing, he thinks _he_ had a rough afternoon,” Rachel remarked, standing from where she had been kneeling by the television, a broom and dustpan in hand. Percy noticed the broken china and glass on the floor as he set the pizza on the island counter, and wondered if Annabeth _had_ snapped and thrown something while he was gone. He wouldn’t be surprised, not with Nico hanging around. “I, for one, appreciate your timing, Percy.”

“He could’ve gotten here earlier. Would’ve saved me _a lot_ of trouble.”

“I had hoped your afternoon would be less eventful than mine,” Percy replied, opening one of the boxes immediately. Fighting monsters and dealing with fawning teenage demigods was tough work and he was starving. “Although judging by the damage to the front lawn, I’d say otherwise. What happened?”

“What didn’t happen?” the son of Hades grumbled, looking wistfully at the pizza over the couch’s edge. “You and your girlfriend really need to stop pissing Hera off, _especially_ if it results in me getting punched in the face.”

Percy choked on his pizza. “Come again?”

“Hera punched him in the face,” Rachel repeated, pausing beside Nico. “She had, ah, something she shouldn’t have and Nico tried to get it back. It didn’t end well. It was pretty heroic of him, actually. Stupid,” she touched his face, shooting him a significant glance, “but heroic all the same.”

“Well,” Nico said, a faint blush spreading across his visible cheek, “she shouldn’t have called you what she did and I wouldn’t have gotten in her face — ”

“Hera was _here_?” Percy interrupted, not patient enough to deal with Nico and Rachel’s poorly hidden attempts at flirting, not after the bomb they’d just dropped. 

Why had _Hera_ come to their cabin? He’d thought maybe Athena would come around in the last nine months to lecture Annabeth about reproducing with a spawn of Poseidon, but Hera? She wasn’t the biggest fan of the two of them and the feeling was pretty mutual, although she had vowed to stop interfering in their lives after Gaia’s defeat. What would’ve caused her to go back on that? Not the — 

A chill went down his spine and he put his pizza down.

“Is Annabeth all right?” he demanded, moving around the other side of the island. “If that cow touched her...” 

“Oh, she’s fine. She’s in the bedroom,” Rachel said, practically glowing with happiness. “She’s got a surprise for you.” 

Percy arched an eyebrow skeptically. “A surprise? Annabeth doesn’t do surprises.”

“Well,” the redhead said, fidgeting, “Maybe _surprise_ isn’t the best word to describe it since you’ve been kind of, um, expecting one?”

Percy’s brain skittered to the halt at Rachel’s words and gaped at her as the pieces started to come together.

“Rachel. What are you... oh, no, you can’t be _serious_... ”

“She is. And spoiler alert,” Nico said, his glower at half its usual strength due to the frozen bag of peas, “your baby looks like an alien.”

For a moment, only shocked silence filled the air in the living room. And then it was broken by a sharp _smack_ as Rachel knocked Nico upside the head.

“Ow! Haven’t I been hit enough today?” 

Rachel whacked him one more time for good measure. “You insensitive, zombie infested _ass_! You can’t tell someone they have a baby like that!”

“Why not? You just did!”

“Annabeth... ” Percy said, feeling lightheaded. “Annabeth had the baby? _Our_ baby?”

“That’s generally what happens when the woman you impregnated goes into labor, yes,” Nico snapped churlishly, dodging another whack on the head from Rachel. “Would you stop already? Why do you I always get in trouble for being honest?”

“Because your fatal flaw is lacking _tact_ , Nico!” 

Percy hardly listened as his friends continued to bicker. One phrase kept echoing in his mind over and over, getting louder with each repetition.

Annabeth had the baby. 

Annabeth had the baby _without_ him. 

He’d missed the most important, once-in-a-lifetime event in his life, all so he could pick up _pizza_. Fuck. Fuckity fuck _fuck_. He was the worst father ever.

His stomach churned, and he felt like puking up the whole two bites of food he’d managed to swallow down. Then, he felt like punching the wall.

How could she have had the baby without him? How could his _friends_ have let him miss the birth of his first child? Why did this shit always happen to _him_?

“Why the hell didn’t you call me?” he asked, his temple throbbing in fury. “Why didn’t you come and get me?”

“We tried, but Python ate the receiving tower and — ” 

“ _Python_?” he asked loudly, bearing down on Nico. Now that he knew what had happened outside, that the damage had been a threat to his new child, he wanted to make someone _pay_. Unfortunately, that someone happened to be the son of Hades. “How did Python get here? What did he do to my family?!”

“What the hell do you _think_ he was doing here, Percy?” Nico replied, throwing the bag aside and getting to his feet. His left eye was swollen shut, the skin around it already turning purple and red. “Hera sent him to give Annabeth a scare. She went into labor, like, two minutes after we got here, and then he attacked — that’s why we couldn’t call you! I was a little busy trying to stop a giant fucking _snake_ from eating your girlfriend and kid, and Rachel had her hands full too. Besides, if you had been here in the first place — ”

“I didn’t know! I wouldn’t have left if I had!” Percy said defensively, but Nico’s reminder punctured a hole in his fury and it deflated just as quick as it’d come, leaving him feeling a bit hollow and unsteady. “I just... I needed to... shit, I’ve screwed everything up.” 

He ran a hand through his hair and turned away from his friends, letting out a heavy, shaky breath and hoping they hadn’t seen the tears in his eyes. Too many emotions clashed for dominance inside of him, and he didn’t know if he could deal with them all. This was supposed to have been one of the happiest days of his life, and it’d turned into a quasi-nightmare. 

“Percy,” Rachel said gently, touching his elbow. “Annabeth and the baby are fine. Nico did an excellent job protecting us, the destruction wrought on my car not included. Everything turned out all right, so don’t sweat it any more than you have to, okay?”

“But...”

But he was an irresponsible mess, an already poor excuse for a father. He’d left Annabeth — knowing she could go into labor at any time — to go play glorious hero at a summer camp for a few hours. What did that say about his priorities? He knew he hadn’t been ready for this responsibility, and now everyone knew it too. _Especially_ Annabeth.

“Nope, none of that self-doubty stuff,” she said, tugging his elbow insistently and turning him toward the hallway. “You have a _baby_ to see, dork. What are you still doing, arguing with us?”

“Yeah,” Nico grumbled, brushing past him to get to the pizza. “You better go before I end up spoiling something else about it and Rachel makes me sleep on the couch for the next month.”

“Yes, what he sa... no, wait, not what he said!” Rachel exclaimed, turning her suddenly flustered gaze on Nico. “I mean, listen to what he said about the baby, not about me. Or my couch. And sleeping. Bah! Forget you ever heard any of that, and go cuddle with the newborn!”

Rachel gave Percy another push, and he arched a curious eyebrow at the two of them before heading toward the hallway. While the redhead looked positively mortified, Nico looked completely unrepentant about his slip-up. 

Great. On top of everything else, he was going to owe Hazel 50 dramachas for being completely _right_ about Nico’s mystery girlfriend. 

“Oh, and remember, when you’re picking out godparents, I’m on the top of the list,” the son of Hades called through a mouth full of pizza, as Rachel glared at him, her hands on her hips. “You _so_ totally owe me for dealing with Hera and her pet snake.”

A knuckle sandwich was what he was going to owe him if Nico didn’t stop being a little asshat and shut up for the rest of his life, Percy thought absentmindedly as he continued toward the bedroom. The door was closed and Percy’s hand hovered over the knob hesitantly, his ears straining for sound on the other side. He could only hear the echoes of Rachel’s terse lecturing from the kitchen; he wondered if Annabeth and the baby were sleeping already, and if they were, if he should wake them up.

Gods above, Annabeth was going to be furious with him. He would have to spend the rest of his life making up for missing this — he’d gladly do it too, if it would help alleviate some of the guilt and disappointment churning in his stomach. He’d been so excited at the thought of becoming a father, and it hurt knowing he’d already failed before his child was even born. 

He sighed, deciding he’d spent enough time pitying himself, and gathered his courage, turning the handle slowly.

The bedroom door creaked as he pushed it open. Their room was awash in the orange and red yellows of the fading summer sun, and someone had opened the window so the gentle, soothing smell of the sea could float in. Percy’s eyes were immediately drawn to the woman on the bed, with her back was propped against the headboard, her bare legs and lap half-covered by the light blue sheets. Her blonde curls had been pulled into a sweaty, messy high ponytail and while she looked utterly exhausted, the serene expression on her face as she marveled and murmured at the bundle in her arms made Percy’s chest ache. He’d never seen her look so beautiful and at peace with herself before. 

Annabeth glanced up as he entered the room, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Then, a curious new sound split the air — a short, high pitched squeak — and she smiled widely at him, erasing his doubts and fears in one easy movement.

“Hey stranger,” she said hoarsely, tapping the space next to her on the bed. “Come meet our son.” 

—

“Percy Jackson, are you _crying_?”

Annabeth almost laughed at the caught look on her boyfriend’s face as he not-so-discretely ran the back of his hand over his eyes to blot the tears away. The tears had started almost as soon as he’d crawled into bed next to her and got his first look at their baby — Percy was definitely not a crier, so his reaction had taken her by complete surprise. 

“ _No_. Gods, what gave you that idea?” he denied, glaring at her with distinctly red rimmed eyes. “It’s just... allergies. Or dust. Or... something.”

“Right,” Annabeth said slowly, turning her gaze toward her son. “You see what I was talking about, kiddo? Your daddy is just plain silly.”

“Have you been telling him lies about me already?” Percy said, aghast. “Annabeth, he hasn’t even met me yet!” 

“Well, that should probably change, don’t you think?”

Percy blinked at her and then glanced down at the baby, his face softening as he took a deep, long look at the newborn. She’d managed to wrangle their son into a onesie from the just-in-case overnight hospital bag they’d brought along to the cabin, and had taken off the thick, knit cap from Hera once he started to fuss. She’d tried to comb his thick blond hair after it’d dried, but apparently he’d inherited Percy’s unfortunate cowlick and it hadn’t cooperated with her. 

“Yeah, I think so,” he said, in a hushed voice, holding out his arms. Annabeth noticed they were trembling slightly. “Can I?”

For as much as she’d wanted the baby out and away from her several hours ago, Annabeth was surprised how reluctant she was to let him out of her arms now, even to give him to Percy, who she knew would never harm a hair on his head. She had Hera to thank for her newfound paranoia — just what every new mother needed. But despite this, she passed him over slowly, arranging him in the crook of Percy’s arm and stroking the baby’s head soothingly as he mewled and squirmed in protest at being taken away from her.

“It’s okay, it’s just your daddy,” she said. “I know I’m your favorite, but he’s a good guy too, I promise.” 

“Oh, don’t listen to your mom, she’s not the fun one,” Percy replied, holding the baby close to his chest and giving him his undivided attention. “Now, you and me. _We’re_ going to have lots of fun together, aren’t we, little guy? Well, once you’ve grown out of the drool monster stage anyway.”

This time, Annabeth did laugh and she leaned against Percy’s shoulder, looping her arm with his. The baby squirmed as Percy stroked his face with wonder, and his big blue eyes opened, squinting at the stranger above. The way he looked at their child in that moment made Annabeth fall in love with him all over again. 

“I can’t believe how small you are,” he continued, his voice cracking with awe. “Gods, it’s good to see you. I was worried your mom would hog you forever. But you’re here! And you’ve already had an adventure...”

“An adventure this woman would not like to repeat any time soon,” she said with a groan. “What a mess that was.” 

“I’m... sure it was,” Percy said awkwardly, not looking at her. She waited, feeling the tenseness in his body, and, after a few moments of pregnant silence, he burst out, “So, how mad are you at me?” 

She studied her boyfriend carefully, picking up on the shadow of disappointment in his eyes and the slight slump of his shoulders. He had to be beating himself up about missing the birth, and she felt a tiny pang of guilt about that. While she had been distressed and annoyed that he’d left her alone for it all, she didn’t _want_ to be mad and it was unfair to be angry with him for something a goddess herself had interfered with. 

If this had happened a few years ago, she might’ve held it against him and stewed about it until it came bursting out at the most inopportune moment. But it wasn’t worth it to get into an argument, not when they could be spending that time getting to know their child and when it would ruin the good parts of an otherwise very horrible day. 

“Honestly, I’m more exhausted than anything. I had him in less than two hours, Percy. That’s... gods, I still can’t believe it happened like that,” she said, feeling exhaustion beginning to creep up on her again as she spoke. “You wouldn’t have wanted to see me like that. Ask Rachel. It was probably best that you weren’t there; I’m sure I would’ve punched you if you had been.”

“That doesn’t sound any different than usual.”

She slapped his thigh lightly, proving his point. “I’m trying to alleviate whatever misplaced guilt you have here, Seaweed Brain, so shush. I’m not happy you missed his birth, yes, but things not working out how they’re supposed to, that’s... that’s just how it works with us, you know? It sucks, but there’s nothing we can do to change it. So, don’t focus on that, okay? Our family is here, healthy, and safe, and that’s what matters to me right now. But you _better_ be here for the next one, Jackson, or I am going to have words with a certain Olympian queen and they will not be pretty.”

Percy glanced at her for a long beat, warmth and love emanating from every inch of him, and a smirk quirked on his lips. “So we’re having another one now, huh?”

“Not right _now_ we’re not. Maybe in a few years, once this one’s in college we can — ”

Her boyfriend’s lips settled on hers with a gentle gratitude that made her heart swell, and she kissed him back eagerly, taking in his relief and love. An impatient squawk from the baby drew them away from each other and they shared shy grins, embarrassed to have been already caught in a moment by their child. 

“So then,” Percy said again, clearing his throat and glancing down at the baby in his arms, “What are we going to name this kid?”

That was the remaining, million drachma question, wasn’t it? Who knew naming such a small person could be so hard? 

“Did you ever decide on a boy’s name you liked?” Annabeth asked hesitantly. “Otherwise, I have one in mind.”

It wasn’t a name that had been on her favorites list, but she had considered it briefly earlier in her pregnancy. She’d already tried out a few of the favorites, whispering them to the baby before Percy had returned, and none of them seemed to fit her child quite right. This one, though, had a lot of potential. 

Percy shook his head. “I picked out all girls names. Besides, the least I can do is let you pick the name after you went through all that.”

“Well,” she said, “what do you think of Theo?”

She’d had her reservations about the name — mostly because it sounded like Leo and she knew the son of Hephaestus would never let _that_ one go — and it was slightly old fashioned. However, it was still a Greek name and a nice way to acknowledge their Olympian heritage without choosing a name that already had some nasty history behind it. 

“ _Theo_ Jackson. Theo _Jackson_ ,” Percy said, testing the name in different ways as he bobbed the baby. “Hmm. Are you sure you don’t want to name him Theodore so you have something to yell to strike the fear of Athena into him when he misbehaves?” 

“I’m sure,” she responded, watching as her son yawned and stretched his arms out. She adjusted the blanket around him just so she could touch him once more. “He can be just Theo. For now, anyway.” 

Percy nodded, glancing down at the baby. “All right. Theo it is. You think you can live with that, kiddo?"

The baby — _Theo_ yawned again, clearly disinterested in the incredibly simple resolution of what had been a several month long debate between his parents, and closed his big eyes, snuggling up to Percy’s chest like he knew he belonged there. 

“He has his priorities straight,” Annabeth said, leaning back against the headboard, “A nap sounds amazing right now.” 

“Go ahead. You earned it. I’ll keep him busy.” 

“Mmm, all right,” Annabeth said, already sinking into her pillows. Her eyelids felt like they weighed 10 pounds each. “You should call your mom and Paul, before Nico decides to. Piper, too, and Dr. Lieske, and — ”

“Annabeth,” Percy said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. “I promise I’ll call them all in a bit. Sleep, before Theo decides to put his lungs to good use, ‘cause I’m sure he inherited yours.”

“Har har,” Annabeth grumbled, breathing in the clean scent of his shirt and feeling herself relax all over. “You’re hilarious.” 

“I knew you loved me for my fabulous wit.” 

She grunted in disagreement, but stayed cuddled next to him, enjoying the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the rhythmic drumming of his fingers on her shoulder. At last, she felt content and calm, a far cry from the hysterical, sobbing turmoil she’d been put through earlier in the day. Everything was okay, and she was grateful for that. 

Now, she could look forward to getting to know and loving her son, with Percy at her side. Some tough days would be ahead for them as they learned how to adapt as parents and adjust themselves to a new person in their lives, but she knew they’d be able to do it. They’d always been able to do anything they set their minds too, and Theo would be no exception. 

She cracked open an eye to reveal one more time in the blissful scene her boyfriend and child presented. She couldn’t be happier with the two of them, with their (in her biased opinion) perfect family . 

And then, Percy ruined the moment with a resigned sigh.

“Nico’s right. He _does_ look like an alien." 

Well. 

Maybe not quite perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos and comments on this fic! It grew it a much bigger monster than I thought it would be, but I had fun writing it. I hope you enjoyed it.

**Author's Note:**

> Annabeth is experiencing what is known as precipitous labor, where labor lasts three hours or less. It's more common with women who've had more than one baby, but it can (and does) happen to first time mothers.


End file.
